You Didn't Know Her
by Veritas Found
Summary: The Doctor had told Lilith her spell hadn't worked because she didn't know Rose, but she refused to believe it. No one was that special. [For Word 37 in the 15 Minute Fic comm.]


**Title:** "You Didn't Know Her"

**Author:** Wish Wielder

**Fandom:** Doctor Who

**Pairing / Character Focus:** Lilith / Implied Doctor x Rose Tyler

**Challenge:** 15 Minute Fic

**Theme / Prompt:** #37

**Word Count:** 749

**Rating:** K Plus / PG

**Summary:** The Doctor had told Lilith her spell hadn't worked because she didn't know Rose, but she refused to believe it. No one was that special.

**Notes:** Post-reunion.

**Disclaimer:** "Doctor Who" and all respective properties are © the BBC. Megan D. (Wish Wielder) does not, has never, nor will ever own "Doctor Who".

_**"**__**You Didn't Know Her**__**"**_

The power of the name. It should have worked – usually does. It worked on that girl, Martha Jones – to an extent. But she was out of her time, in a place where her name was not yet conceived. It would have killed her if she had been in her proper year.

But that man…that _Doctor_…he was a strange one. There was no name for him, not that she could see. Wrapped in despair and sorrow and secrets…but there were other names, all floating around him and pulling at some strand of memory and heart. One more powerful than the others – closer, stronger. Not his own, but it should have worked. It was the perfect spell, perfect to kill him.

_"But your heart grows __cold,__ the north wind blows and carries down the distant…Rose."_

Why hadn't it worked? He said the name made him stronger – kept him fighting. Why? How? Her spells always worked, and that name…it caused him so much pain. How could he stand against it?

_Rose._ It should have killed him.

She had asked him once. He had been searching for something in the attic he had locked them away in, and she had asked. They had stopped screaming long ago; what was the point behind it? No one came. No one answered them. Now all they did was sit and think, and the quiet was worse – so much worse. And she always wondered on it – _why didn't the spell work?_ So she asked, and he told her. And she didn't know how much she liked the answer.

"You didn't know her," he had said, and nothing more. Just a smile – a sad smile that told of unmentionable heartache – and that was that. But she refused to believe it. No one was that special. No one was that different.

No one could break a heart so completely and still make someone stronger when reminded of her.

"This one?" she heard a voice shout, and she looked out towards the door of the attic, curved by the glass of the ball. Light spilled up from the lower level, and the room soon brightened as a girl pulled herself up from the ladder.

"Yeah – should be near the front!" she heard the Doctor shout back, and she pressed herself closer to the glass. No one ever came into this room – why now? Her mothers shifted, but she waved them back. No screaming. It would still be useless.

"Don't you ever clean this place?" the girl called, but she didn't listen for his response. Something about her…

"What's this, then?" she asked, bending near their ball. She picked it up and looked in on them, her eyes widening at the withered faces staring back at her. Her mothers glared, but she stepped back, fear clenching at her.

Golden eyes, sparking with an unearthly, immortal calm so much worse than the rage she felt. _"I can see the whole of time and space."_ Brown eyes, laughing and dancing with a brilliant smile. Hugs and tears and grins and quips, all directed towards one man. But above it all, that golden glow sparking with a calm rage – directed at her and all the others who had tried to harm the one who called himself the Doctor.

"Ignore them," he said, appearing beside the girl. She shook herself, and the image vanished, but still it lurked on the outskirts of her mind, a wolf with gnashing teeth and a deadly howl. The girl opened her mouth to protest, but the Doctor took the ball from her hands and placed it back in its nook. "No one important, Rose. Ah, there it is!"

She watched, shaking, as the Doctor grabbed a coil of multi-colored rope and headed towards the ladder. The girl – Rose – looked back once, but when he tugged her hand towards the exit she shoved them out of her mind and followed. The hatch closed, and the room was once again bathed in darkness.

The pain had been so immense the name that caused it had seemed the perfect weapon. But she hadn't known her, so she had refused to believe that one person could be so remarkably different that the hurt-riddled name wouldn't kill. She still didn't know her, but with one glimpse…maybe it was possible, after all. Maybe she was that special.

She didn't care, not anymore. Because she was right, just like back then. It was the perfect spell, and it would have worked. On anyone but the Doctor.

**A.n.:**_ It seemed all spiffy and cool and writing and yay…and then the closing got me stumped. __Dx I__ still like the idea, but I'm iffy on the conclusion. 'Nyways…word was 'spell'._


End file.
